


She Says I Felt Like Safety and Home

by localizedbliss (legitleftfield)



Series: This Could Be Good [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, I am too lazy and don't like him enough to add him, Lucio is not a creepy goatman here, he's still alive as a goatman he's just like being a goatman somewhere else, part one: she/her pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legitleftfield/pseuds/localizedbliss
Summary: She eased his hands away, wiping her face down with her sleeves, "He's gone and I can't even look for him," she cried, the tears not stopping their path. "Who?" Asra asked, laying a hand on hers. The words slipped out before she even had the chance to think them, and they didn't stop, "I don't know," she answered.





	1. Did You Forget Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from Mary Lambert's "She Keeps Me Warm" with some word changes. Chapter title from Mary Lambert's "Forget Me"
> 
> 9/6/19 - minor edits  
7/24/20 - oh my god i forgot about this series. I'm rewriting a little of the she/her fic before moving on to editing and posting the he/him and they/them fics

The path the two magic user’s walked was overgrown with weeds and roots, and offered a concert of chirping birds that sang in the morning light. Verda was quiet as she walked next to Asra, the both of them feeling relaxed while they passed through rays of sunlight, Faust chattering enough for the two of them while she weaved her way through Asra's outer clothes and slinking over Verda's shoulders while she rambled. Her gentle voice, with it’s _ s's _ and _ c's _ rolling over her forked tongue. It was a welcome sound for Verda, whose morning was ruined since before she even woke up. Dreams were once again plagued with a faceless, voiceless man she knew nothing about but trusted implicitly. She had woken with tears staining her face, Asra looming over her with concern shining in those pale eyes. All at once being in her bedroom, being in the shop proved too much for her and she went with Asra for the day's errands. A visit to a friend, stops to restock and then treating themselves at their favorite baker's stall.

Asra hadn’t told her anything about this old friend of his, just that the visit would be quick and they’d be off again. Verda wasn’t sure she actually believed him. Asra was well known for ‘just popping by’ somewhere and ending up spending half the day chatting and gossiping. Asra didn’t know what a quick trip meant.

“What are we going there for, again?” Verda bounded ahead to stop and pluck some wildflowers growing alongside the path. The vibrant colors called to her, the yellows and oranges of the petals standing out against her dark hair as she tucked and twisted the stems into her thick braid. She stepped off the path to collect a handful of smaller flowers, the purple a close match to her friend’s eyes, that grew closer to the thick trunks than the overturned dirt and rocks and roots that made up the path. Asra was kind enough to stop and lean forward for her to push the flowers through his white curls.

"Just some protective charms, and to see how my friend is doing. It's been a few months since I've dropped by," Asra bent his head lower for her, fixing a flower in her own hair that was falling out, "he doesn't like to go out into the city much, so I try to come see him more than he comes to see me."

"Hm. Is he nice?" Verda asked as they continued their walk, hopping over a particularly large root protruding through the dirt. Asra laughed at her question, "Trying to pick him up, Verda?" There was a tone in his voice that made her pause. She looked over at him with narrowed eyes and tried to intimidate him into explaining that tone he was taking.

"No," she poked him harshly, "but I am curious. If he's anything like that Gahemain, I'm taking Faust and we're sitting outside." She _ hmphed _, linking her arm through the one Asra offered. The path was thinning out now, cleared from all the overgrowth that covered it behind them. There was soft clucking in the distance that grew louder the closer they went, until they came across a small... house? Verda wasn't sure if it could be qualified as that. The stone that made up the exterior seemed cold, even on the warm summer day, and the tree that grew over it (the roof?) extended around the sides of the building, the roots growing down into the dirt and creating what Verda could only imagine as a slide. 

There was a wiggling feeling at the back of her mind. A flash of pain-not-pain. She had a sudden bout of sadness over the view.

"Asra." The rough voice startles Verda. So busy looking over the literal tree house, she hadn't noticed another person here. He was a big man, with well defined muscles partially covered by half of an animal's black pelt. Under it, Verda can see what seems to be a partially ripped cloak, attached to the thick, spiked collar around his neck, its connected chain clicking loud in the peaceful air. He wore black pants with a few other smaller, colored pelts over it with a thick belt to keep everything together. Verda noticed the matching set of spiked chains on his wrists, and they made her brows dip on her forehead.

A dreadful thing, that collar is. Her stomach lurches at the sight of it, knowing that a thing like that does not belong on him but not sure how she does. His skin was covered in scars, most notable the one carved in the middle of his right cheek that trailed down to his jaw. The mountain of a man moves, his head twitching and suddenly Verda is left looking into startling green eyes, the color bright and glaring at her. Shaggy strands of black hair sit in front of his face, and his piercing gaze transferred to Asra. He didn't speak, Verda found herself sorely disappointed over this as Asra answered an unspoken question.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Muriel," _ nice name _, Verda mused to herself, "so I thought we'd stop by." Asra beamed at the man, the smile being one Verda has seen him use countless times before to get just one more muffin, just a few scoops extra of this spice and that cream. The man, Muriel, didn't seem to buy into that grin. A little part of her inside was pleased. Asra gets away with too much these days.

"We?" Muriel's voice was rough against her ears, a gravelly sound that Verda enjoyed.

"Yes, me and my apprentice. Muriel, this is Verda." Asra gestured to her with a sweeping hand, stepping to the side as if to show her off like one of his favored books in the shop. Verda felt a little objectified, but only a little, because she knew Asra's gesture was one of good fun. She'd get him back later.

"Hello. My name is Verdandi, but please, call me Verda." She smiled at Muriel, waving her hand but not offering to shake. Muriel hadn't moved any closer since Asra first introduced her, and he didn't seem very interested in being friendly towards her anyway. Asra, too, but after a few moments she could recognize that fond annoyance she so often felt as well about the white haired man. She watched as Muriel twitched, a slight movement of hands like he was hesitant about even breathing in front of them. Muriel eyed her one last time before flicking a glance at Asra and turning away, towards his home.

"Hi," and then, "Come in." Asra moved to follow him, but Verda stayed in place even when he gave her a quick 'come on' wave of his hand. She didn’t think it’d be a good idea to go inside Muriel’s house, not when he seemed so uncomfortable with her. Asra shot her a sad look, one she didn't understand, and allowed Faust to slither from his arm to gently drop to the ground where she was fast to join Verda.

"_ Friend! _" Her soft voice filled with glee.

"We'll just be over there," she pointed at a nearby tree bathed in the light, walking away already, "come get us when you're done!"

The tree was surprisingly comfortable to rest against, once Verda shed some of her layers to lay on. Faust was already settling down on the right of the tree, where the leaves from above offer a nice shaded patch for the snake. Verda checked her over with a smile before laying back and closing her eyes. Her nose was filled with the scent of the forest, the sharp cut of grass and the always tickling smell of the trees. She sighed in contentment, ignored that little wiggling feeling of pain-not-pain and fell asleep before she even realized she was tired.

  
  
  


It seemed like seconds later she was blinking awake, but instead of staring at rays of sunlight between the leaves, instead she was staring at a fire-lit wall, the sound of crackling logs in her ears. She was warm, pleasantly so, wrapped up in two thick arms. The pair belonged to a man, obvious in the thick corded muscles surrounding her, the heavy hands clasped over her stomach. "Verda," he said, and she immediately forgot how he sounded.

"My love," he whispered, a tone of reverence and awe; words breathed so softly it was as if she weren’t meant to hear them. Turning to face the man she was met with nothing, just a blank face. A blur over his entire being. She could not tell you the skin color, or what the hair looked like, or the eyes. Anything to identify this man drifted away even as she looked directly at him. Tears gathered in her eyes, falling from her cheeks onto the pillow under her head. "Oh, Verda" he sighed, breath warm on her face, "do not cry." She couldn't help it, she knew this man, he was her soul and yet she could not identify him. It hurt in her heart and she was so alone.

"I miss you," she told him, "I don't know your face, and I miss you so much." She cried, and they spoke no more. Verda was left alone, in his arms, desperately trying to cling to whatever she could to find him, but it all faded from her mind the second she looked away. She had nothing to comfort her, nothing but foggy memories that only gave her a desolate sorrow. It grew in her, like a bed of castor bean bushes buried inside her body. Her sobs shook her frame, her tears collecting under her and drowning her in their volume, "Please," she cried out in despair, "I miss you," and then there was nothing. White surrounded her, and she was utterly alone.

  
  
  


When Verda next opened her eyes, Faust was gone, and there were rapid thumps coming her way. When she turned her head she saw Asra running to her and Muriel close behind. The shortly missing Faust was just slithering out the door of Muriel's home, far away from Verda but she could still hear Faust’s quiet words of concern. Asra knelt down, his hands joining hers in wiping away the tears that continued to pour. She couldn't fully explain her crying, memories of her dream quickly drifting away with nothing but feelings left behind.

"Verda? What's wrong, are you hurt?" His free hand drifted down her arm, checking for a nonexistent injury. She eased his hands away, wiping her face down with her sleeves, "He's gone and I can't even look for him," she cried softly, the tears not stopping their path. "Who?" Asra asked, laying a hand on hers. The words slipped out before she even had the chance to think about them, "I don't know," she answered, "I miss him, so much. Every day I feel his absence, like an old wound that never quite healed right, and every day I search for his face in so many men. I don't even know what I'm looking for. I remember nothing of his face, his voice. I'm chasing a ghost, and I can't stop because what if he is out there, Asra? He is my soulmate, my other half, he is mine and I don't know where he is. Does he know who I am, does he dream of me as I dream of him?" She asks her friend, desperate for an answer he cannot give. 

Asra just squeezed her hand in support, guilt lurking behind those gemstone eyes of his. Muriel stood silent, eyes flicking between the grass and Verda, not that she noticed with her head tucked into their friend's shoulder. Asra's face showed the agony he felt as she cried, and Muriel felt his stomach twist at the sound of her wailing. "He knows," Muriel spoke before he could stop himself, "and he dreams of you too." _ Because he is me _, went unsaid, a secret only known to himself and Asra that Verda's missing man truly stood before her. "He will find you." Muriel promised, when he should not have, but he simply couldn't bear to hear her cry anymore. Not when he can't be the one to comfort her, to kiss her brow and smooth her hair down. 

"How?" She questions fiercely, guilty for taking a tone with a man who was just trying to make her feel better, but she has listened to Asra promise the same for months and she can't stand to hear it anymore. "I can't pick him out in a crowd. I can't listen to him say my name and just know, because everything I learn of him slips away just as fast. All I'm left with is how I feel and that's _ useless _ to me. Feelings won't find him, nothing will." Her chest heaved, and in the back of her mind came that wiggling feeling. 

Distantly, she thought about the basket she'd put together for him, an apology for her rude behavior. Who visits someone's home, has a breakdown in their front yard and then yells at them? Verda, apparently.

"How did you feel with him?" Verda could see Asra side-eyeing Muriel, but she no longer cared. She collapsed in on herself, spoke to her hands that twisted in her lap. 

"I remember... safety. Like the only place I was truly safe was in his arms. I remember feeling at home, and feeling loved and happy. But not his face. I never remember his face." She quietly mourned. She no longer wanted to be in this place, with its fresh air and sunshine. She wanted her bed, and her Honey-Pepper tea and she wanted this man who she doesn’t remember but loves so, _ so _ much. 

Without another word she stood and made her way to the path to go back to the shop, ignoring Asra’s gentle request for her to come back. She couldn’t be around those two anymore.

The forest was silent as she walked through it. Truly, she was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if there's any issues with spelling/grammar/punctuation that you've caught, do not hesitate to let me know (politely)!


	2. my love, my love, my love, my love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I kinda feel like with this chapter I'm possibly just throwing canon away? I haven't finished Muriel's story yet (I'm on book 9) and I have no idea what happened between him being a gladiator, Lucio dying and what happened to him after that. But whatever! Muriel deserves love and I'm gonna give it to him with an OC

Verda hummed as she sprinkled feed for the chickens, watching Muriel in the distance as he chopped wood. He was shirtless, as he usually was, but he didn’t have his chains and collar on. It sent a soft thrill throughout her body seeing him like that, and even Inanna seemed to look happier today when she interacted with him. Verda could count on one hand the number of times Muriel had gone without both of those things at the same time. The collar stayed on more than the chains on his wrist, but Muriel choosing to go without both was a pleasantly rare surprise. Verda was always happy to help Muriel dress for the day, using any excuse she could get to put her hands on the man, but helping him with the chains was the one thing she couldn’t bear to put on. She understood his reasons for wearing them, and she wouldn’t try to force him to take them off unless it was absolutely necessary.

(She doesn’t remember it, and likely never would, but Asra told her about how she had once gotten Muriel to remove those damn things. It was early into their relationship, and Muriel had been hurt badly and she could hardly help heal him with the thick metal in the way of his wounds. Asra said it was the only time she ever really raised her voice at him)

A sharp series of pecks against her foot brought her back to the present. She looked down to see a rooster, Vestil, if she remembered correctly, that had accidentally got her foot in an effort to finish of the small pile of feed that she had allowed to slip from her hands. 

“Pig.” Verda gently nudged him away. A little round ball of fluff filled his spot. Vestil wandered off when Verda continued to ward him away from the chick eating.

“Rooster, not a pig.” The unexpected words scared her as much as the man that said them. Verda looked back up with a smile, carefully making her way through the cluster of chickens. Muriel had already bent down for her to press a kiss against his jaw. His face flushed sweetly. 

“With how he eats, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Verda tilted her head up for another kiss, this time against his lips, before curling happily against his chest. Muriel dipped his hand into the feed bag where it rested against her side and flung seed around. The chickens immediately followed the food, Vestil already pecking away.

Muriel’s hands found their way to her back, spots of warmth sinking into her skin through her clothes. It felt nice. She sighed happily, basking in the affection Muriel was giving before pulling away. She returned the feed bag to Muriel, who knotted it closed and went back inside to put it away. He picked up the axe he was using where it lay buried in the ground when he walked by. Verda snuck a glance when he bent over. 

She’s only human.

“I’ll be in shortly. We can take a little nap until lunch is done,” Verda called out, smiling at Muriel’s back. He didn’t answer but she knew he agreed. The weather hadn’t been as warm lately, and the sun was hardly shining. Perfect weather for napping. Verda knew for a fact Inanna hardly left her spot beside the door today.

Verda watched their chickens for a few minutes more, making sure Vestil didn’t hog the feed before following Muriel inside. She shut the door behind her, bent to pat Inanna softly on her napping head, and flicked the lock over. Muriel was on their bed unlacing his boots when she started walking over. Verda pulled off her over clothes on her way, and Muriel glanced up at her a few times as his fingers worked, pulling the laces and kicking the boots off with his heel. When he was done Verda had finished folding her clothes neatly on the chest at the end of his bed, wearing nothing but her small clothes. 

She smiled as Muriel tried to avoid that she was wearing so little, so she took pity on him. This was all still so new to him, learning and being together again. She carefully lifted the chests top, grabbing a thin undershirt of Muriel’s that he only used during the winter. The hem fell just above her knee, the sleeves to her elbows. It was soft, and smelled like Muriel.

“Hour left on the stew.” Muriel brought his legs up, laying flat on his back. Verda crawled in next to him, settling easily into his side.

“Okay. I was thinking we could stop by the market tonight? For dinner. Pashmina tried something new on that smoked eel you liked so much. Promised us as much as we want, on the house, for being taste-testers,” Verda spoke softly, loving the smile that graced Muriel’s face, however small it was.

“If that’s what you want,” he replied, and when Verda simply looked at him he blushed. “I would like that,” He nodded.

“Better.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, throwing an arm over his chest.

Muriel sighed softly, pulling his arm around Verda and tugging her closely. His other hand cupped the one on his chest, thumb stroking softly against her skin.

With nothing but the sound of Inanna’s gentle snores and the soft bubbling of the stew, the two of them drifted off into a light nap.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on reposting this work two more times, with he/him and they/them pronouns. My question to you, how do I tag for the they/them fic? Other? They won't identify as female or male so I don't want to use the F/M or M/M tags, what are your thoughts?


End file.
